


The Theory of Inevitability

by orphan_account



Category: Uta no Prince-sama
Genre: AU, Drama CD: Joker Trap, Drama CD: Lycoris no Mori | Forest of Lycoris, Joker Trap, Lycoris no Mori, M/M, Pirates of The Frontier, Shining Masterpiece Show, Tenka Muteki no Shinobi Michi, polaris - Freeform, there's a little bit of everything in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-01-27 13:08:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: No matter how much time passes, their feelings will never fade.
Relationships: Ichinose Tokiya/Ittoki Otoya
Kudos: 34





	1. 2008 - Joker Trap

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lana_Fair](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lana_Fair/gifts).

> I don't want to spoil anything, so I won't say much here, but know that this is going to have a little bit of everything: angst, drama, romance, it's all here. I've also not cared what the release timeline was when these came out, so you'll have to forgive me for taking some creative liberties.
> 
> Happy Anniversary!

_“I’m not going to ask again! Put the damn gun down!”_

_“Tokiya!”_

_Perfect Diamond tightened his hand on the grip of his gun and took a deep breath. He needed to calm down. He needed to detach himself from this situation, get out of an emotional space and into a more logical one. Logic was his forte. He could review the information he’d collected and find a way out of this._

_Right now though, he wasn’t feeling much like Perfect Diamond. He wasn’t even feeling much like his normal self. It was like his consciousness had been replaced with a scared six-year-old child, because the sight of the gun mere centimeters away from a mop of untidy red hair was enough to send him to pieces._

_“Let him go,” he said, trying to repress the shaking of his hands and his voice. “I’ll shoot.”_

_“You wanna bet you’ll shoot before I do? You ready to bet this script kiddie’s life on it?”_

_“Tokiya, please, I don’t want to die, please save me, please—” The begging coming out of his roommate’s mouth was endless, rushed and terrified, and for good reason. He was an informant. A hacker. He should have never been in the line of fire._

‘It’s my fault_,’ was all Perfect Diamond could think, because it _was_. If he hadn’t slipped up and revealed where he lived, they wouldn’t be standing in their shared apartment, at this standoff. His roommate was a SAS hacker, and had no experience on the outside like this. He didn’t know what to do with a gun to his head, and Tokiya almost wished he could trade places, because as scary as it would be, he knew he could take the man down._

_But could he do it now? With Otoya’s life on the line?_

_He put his hands up. “I’m putting the gun on the ground,” he announced before cautiously beginning to sink down. It was too dangerous; he couldn’t afford to make a mistake right now, not when it would cost a life. _

_“Kick it over to me,” the captor commanded. Otoya’s begging had turned to whimpers, possibly of shame for putting his safety over their jobs. Spies were supposed to be ready to do anything to protect the information they had. “Now tell me everything you know about the Joker.”_

_Perfect Diamond blanched. That was his current target; he didn’t know much, definitely not enough for the man to believe he’d said everything he knew. “I don’t have much—”_

_“You have something. Spill. Or I shoot.”_

_“He—He leaves a calling card. A playing card: the joker. He has underground dealings and does most of his business on the black market. He’s clean in the drug cartels—”_

_“You’re fucking with me now.”_

_“I swear I’m not.” The man’s finger slipped over the trigger, despite Tokiya’s fumbling over his words. “I swear that’s all I know; you can take me hostage if you don’t believe me.”_

_That only elicited a cold laugh. “You think I’m dumb enough to take one of SAS? They’d be on my ass before I left the building with you. I don’t like being played. This is your last chance.”_

_“I don’t know anything!”_

_Maybe Otoya could see the fear starting to creep into Tokiya’s poker face, or maybe he was just following the conversation and realizing it wasn’t about to go well for him, because he had started to wriggle, trying to break the grasp on him. His captor broke concentration for just a moment, and that was enough for Tokiya’s training to kick in. Within milliseconds, he had reacted, rushing the man to try to knock him further off guard. All three of them fell to the floor, Otoya freed as soon as he hit the wood. He scrambled away as Tokiya struggled to get the upper hand to disarm the intruder. If he could just get a gun, he’d have the upper hand again. _

_He should have called one of the others—Spiky Club or hell, even Majestic Spade—; two against one would have made this a lot easier. He was good at covert work, not this confrontational stuff._

_“Tokiya!”_

_A gun skittered across the floor in his direction, and Tokiya recognized it as the gun he’d set down earlier. This was fine. They were on equal footing now; Perfect Diamond could work with this. He was a professional; he didn’t let anything shake him._

_“Drop your weapon.” It wasn’t a request. Tokiya had his hand around that wrist, and he could feel the second it relaxed, the gun clattering to the ground under them. “Who do you work for?”_

_The man stayed silent._

_“I’m not asking again. Who do you work for?”_

_No response. Not even a tightening of his lips; it was as if Tokiya hadn’t even asked a question._

_“Ace. Can you trace the gun’s origin?”_

_Otoya nodded. “I can look up the serial number,” he said after a moment. _

_“Do it.”_

_Several things happened at once. _

_Otoya moved towards the loaded gun with a cloth he’d picked up from his computer desk, presumably so he wouldn’t add fingerprints to it. Tokiya watched his hand shake on the descent, remembering a second too late that he was picking up a gun that had been held to his head and likely hadn’t compartmentalized his feelings about it yet. He opened his mouth to ask if Otoya was okay._

_And that was when pain exploded in his chest, knocking the wind out of him and sending him sprawling on the ground. For a moment, the only thing he thought about was getting air back into his lungs. _

_And then he heard the gunshot._

_Otoya’s eyes were blown wide open, his mouth slackened in terror, hands instinctively coming to rest over the new hole in his abdomen. He was only upright for a second more before he collapsed backwards, the gun in his hands sliding to the ground. Tokiya’s training hit him first, and his body instinctively recaptured the weapon, aimed, and fired in less time than it took the murderer to locate him in the room. A clean shot to the skull. The man was dead before he had even hit the floor._

_A shaky groan from behind him reminded him of the situation._

_“Otoya!”_

_Even without medical training, Tokiya could tell that Otoya’s condition was not good. His face was the color of chalk, and it took him a moment to realize that his chest wasn’t rising and falling. The splotch of red on his shirt was only getting larger, spidering out from where his hand rested._

_“Otoya?! Otoya, come on, hold on! Just hold on, okay? I’ll get help, I promise, just hold on!”_

_There was no response._

_He shifted his hand down to Otoya’s neck._

_No pulse._

_“No no no no no! Come on, just hold on!” He batted Otoya’s hand away from the wound, pressing into it himself for a moment to see if that would help._

_The warmth was starting to fade from Otoya’s skin._

_“Please, don’t do this to me! Don’t die!” he begged, all while his brain screamed at him that it was his fault. It was _his_ fault that his always-cheerful, bubbly roommate was lying dead on the ground. His roommate who had always encouraged him when things got bad, who had flipped his thinking on more than one occasion to help him finish a job, who was the only person who had hugged Tokiya in the last fifteen years . . . _

_“Please don’t leave me,” he whispered, his voice cracking under the sobs wracking his frame. “Please, Otoya . . .”_

When Tokiya woke up, he was crying.

It was obvious that he’d had a nightmare—they weren’t new; he recognized the gasping breaths and the disorientation—but this one had felt so real he moved before he thought about the alternative. His room looked undisturbed, as did the living room, but it wasn’t until he saw Otoya’s form under the blankets of his own bed after throwing the door open with enough force that it bounced off the doorframe with a deafening crack and swung back at him that he could breathe.

Otoya was _alive_.

“Tokiya?” Even if Otoya could sleep through most things, the door had certainly woken him, and he was shifting upwards on one elbow to peer at Tokiya through sleepy eyes. 

“It’s fine. Everything is . . . fine.” Now that he realized what he’d done, he couldn’t help the mild shame from sliding down his spine, but Otoya merely patted the bed next to him.

“Nightmare?” he asked when Tokiya sat down.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” He’d settled back against the pillows, offering Tokiya his shoulder to lay on. He did. It wasn’t an unfamiliar position for them; they both had nightmares, Tokiya usually of his HAYATO days and Otoya of various things. Living in the same room at Saotome Academy had made it advantageous to help calm each other down, if only to get back to sleep quicker.

“You . . . died.”

Otoya’s hand raked through his hair. “In your nightmare?” he asked, sounding surprised but never stopping his comforting movements.

“Yeah. It was . . . it was part of Joker Trap, I think.”

“I told you that you were working too hard.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” 

“How did I die?”

Tokiya squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get rid of the mental image of Otoya bleeding out on the ground. It was a dream; wasn’t it supposed to fade from his memory until he couldn’t remember it any longer? “You were shot. I had . . . I screwed up, I think, and the bad guys found out where we lived, and when they got there, I wasn’t home, so they must have taken you hostage.”

“I’m right here. And you’re right here, so it can’t happen, right?” Otoya scratched Tokiya’s scalp with his fingernails until he got a hum in response. “Was I a spy too?”

“A hacker, I think.”

Tokiya could feel Otoya’s chin move against his hair as he nodded. “I _am_ pretty good with technology.”

“You needed help downloading your pictures onto your computer yesterday.”

Otoya snorted. “You don’t have to be mean about it.”

“It just . . . the whole thing felt so real. It still feels real, like if I close my eyes, I’d be there.”

“Well, you’re not. You’re here.” He reached towards one of Tokiya’s hands with his free one, lacing their fingers together. “Besides, I can’t die until I’ve beat my rival, can I?”

“I guess not.” It did beg the question why he had dreamed about Otoya dying, of all people though. It wasn’t that they weren’t close, because Otoya was the closest thing Tokiya had to a best friend, but he was close with the other members of STARISH too, and Ren was actively in Joker Trap. So why had his brain made up an entire role for Otoya?

He supposed he was lucky it _was_ Otoya, because he couldn’t imagine walking down the hallway to Ren and Masato’s shared apartment to tell his former classmate he’d dreamed about him dying.

“It’ll be better in the morning,” Otoya promised. His hand was warm as he rested it on Tokiya’s back, pulling him closer in so that Tokiya was cradled against him. This was Otoya’s big brother mode, perfected on his numerous orphaned brothers and sisters, and he was warm and the fingers stroking through strands of his hair were making him sleepy again. 

And when he woke up the next morning, the dream was hazy enough that he couldn’t quite remember what had happened.


	2. 1196 - Tenka Muteki no Shinobi Michi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I forgive you.”
> 
> “I didn’t—”
> 
> “—you didn’t have any choice. And I’m so sorry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm going to be posting these fairly fast; it's finished, so there's not really a lot of reasons to wait around, and the people I'm concerned about reading it are probably already reading it.
> 
> So, onto Chapter Two! I'm going to admit right now that I haven't listened to Tenka Muteki no Shinobi Michi totally yet, so I used a transcript to get the general gist before writing this chapter. But, since it doesn't take place in canon, if there's anything wrong, just remember: AU. c:
> 
> Also, every time I wrote Otoyaemon, I had to resist writing Doraemon instead, and I hope someone appreciates that effort.

_The scarf was heavy around Otoyaemon’s neck, but he ignored it in favor of waiting it out. The battle between the Saotome Ninjas and the Shining Ninjas was not over, and he was determined to be the victor this time. Duplicates, fireballs, or nothing, he knew he had to take down some of the people protecting the princess, and that meant watching every step._

_He’d only seen glimpses of the princess the last time they met; Masakage and Syonosuke had been in front of her, and they’d made it quite hard to figure out what was going on, but the only thing he really remembered was she was quite tall. Not as tall as Masakage, of course, but definitely taller than Syonosuke. Which, he suppressed a laugh, wasn’t too hard to be._

_Right now, Ceshirumaru should be slipping a sleeping draught into the food the princess’s guards would be eating. It wouldn’t last long, but it would give Otoyaemon more than enough time to slip into the royal chambers, kill the princess, and get out. _

_Something green sparkled near the door of the kitchens. The food had gone out to the stations. Twenty more minutes._

_Sweat rolled down his neck and he tried to ignore just how hot it was under all of these layers. Blending in was halfway impossible without them, but on a sunny summer day, it was torture._

_He focused instead on how he was going to do his job. He wasn’t a monster; he didn’t feel any desire to drag it out. But it was still early evening, and the chances that the princess might be asleep were low. Besides, he’d just seen servants bringing buckets of hot water into her chambers; it was likely she’d be getting ready to bathe. Not the most opportune time, but he didn’t really have a lot of options here._

_The guards in the hallway had started to slump. Good; he’d be in and out before anyone noticed. _

_Their eyes had barely shut before he strode forward, concealing himself in the shadows of the trees and then the roof supports. Once the hallway was clear, he darted inside of the room, sliding the paper door behind himself as quickly as he could._

_And then he froze._

_“Y—you!”_

_Otoya’s eyes went wide at the half-clothed person in front of him. “Y—you’re not the princess!” he protested. “She” was clearly male, or at least the smooth pectoral muscles that led down to a very nicely toned chest suggested so. His kimono was open and slid down to pool around his elbows, the obi removed, leaving him to attempt to cover himself with little success._

_“You’re here to kill me _now?!_” The man’s voice made it quite obvious that he felt it was unfair timing._

_“You? No, the prince—” Otoyaemon cut off as he realized what was going on. The dark, raven hair curling around the man’s face looked familiar, the kindness in his eyes (not that there was much fondness, but there was a kindness somehow that Otoyaemon didn’t expect), and the height._

_The princess wasn’t a princess. It had been a ploy, misinformation meant to distract and deter them._

_“The prince of warriors,” he said slowly._

_Two spots of blush had risen high in the man’s cheeks as he glared. “You’ve already made it clear what you want.”_

_Was he supposed to do this? His orders had been to kill the princess, and he supposed there could be a prince _and_ a princess of warriors . . . “I . . . don’t know. Do you have a sister?”_

_“No.”_

_Well, there went that theory. There wasn’t much he could do; he had his clear orders. “I’ll let you redress, if you’d rather die fully clothed,” he offered, feeling a little awkward about the whole thing. _

_“I can’t. Sweat will soil the silk.”_

_“No offense, but blood is going to get on it too.”_

_That only earned Otoyaemon a glare. “Help me bathe and I won’t resist.”_

_“Excuse me?”_

_“I’ll bathe, and then redress in the robes, and you can kill me.”_

_“Why does that matter?”_

_The man only glared more before he sighed. “Please.”_

_He should just kill him now. It didn’t make sense to wait. But somehow, he found himself agreeing; maybe the clones he kept summoning were affecting his brain. “What do you need help with?”_

_The rest of the man’s clothes were shed, and he did go into the bathtub without hesitation, to his credit. Otoyaemon found himself washing the man’s hair with a lot more care than he ever did his own. The dark strands were shiny and long and beautiful and everything his own was not. _

_“What’s your name?” he asked, if only to escape from the silence that had brewed in the room._

_“Tokinosuke.”_

_“That’s a mouthful.”_

_“And Otoyaemon is not?” he asked, arching one very delicate brow. “I heard your associate, Ceshimaru, call you it that night you tried to kill me the first time.”_

_“I mean, that’s not my real name, so . . .”_

_“No?”_

_“It’s a code name, given by the Shining Ninjas. We all have one.”_

_“I’ve given you my real name. It’s only fair you give me yours.” When Otoyaemon hesitated, he rolled his eyes. “I’m not going to be alive much longer anyways. You might as well tell me; the secret will die with me.”_

_There was a twinge in his chest at that, and Otoyaemon wondered if he’d just grown a conscience in the last ten seconds. “It’s Otonushi.”_

_“How lordly.”_

_“It’s not really a good name for an assassin, is it?” Otoyaemon laughed. _

_He’d shut his eyes just for a second, but something warm and wet brushed against his cheek, and he recoiled instinctively. Tokinosuke’s hand was raised, fingers still extended towards him. The look in his eyes was somehow . . . nostalgic? Otoyaemon wasn’t quite sure how to explain it, but it was like Tokinosuke was looking at him and not at the same time. “Why do you feel so familiar?” he murmured, the low timbre of his voice sending a shiver down Otoyaemon’s spine._

_“What do you mean?” he asked._

_“You . . . your smile . . .” After a moment, he seemed to snap back into the present, shaking himself and quickly splashing water onto his face. “You must forgive me. I have . . . some abilities that don’t seem to be shared among many people.”_

_“Like what?” Otoyaemon asked, nudging him so that he’d turn back around. As soon as he was settled, Otoyaemon dumped a bucket of water over his head to wash the soap from his hair._

_“Spiritual channeling. I’m afraid sometimes it takes over me.”_

_“So, a spirit thinks I’m familiar?” Otoyaemon snorted; he was sure there were several dead people who would recognize his face._

_But his smile? That was a little different._

_“Perhaps.” Tokinosuke rose, water cascading from his skin until it only remained as beads that gravity would eventually pull down. “The towel is over there.”_

_“Do you usually have help with this?” Otoyaemon asked, trying to distract himself from the sight. Tokinosuke was beautiful in a delicate way, his body pale like it had never seen the sun before. _

_“I have a servant who assists me, yes. I assume he’s currently out whatever way you eliminated the guards too.”_

_“Just a sleeping draught. He’ll come around soon.”_

_“You are the only one to see me like this, aside from him and my father. Perhaps it’s best that I’m about to die.” Tokinosuke’s face was pink again as Otoyaemon helped to towel him off. “I’m not sure I could live with the shame.”_

_“You’re a prince. Weren’t you gonna get married someday?”_

_“To a princess, I’m sure. But not yet.” Finally dry, he motioned to the robes set out on the futon on the floor. _

_“How many layers do you have to wear?” Otoyaemon asked incredulously._

_“Luckily not all of them will be fastened; you shouldn’t have to stab me that hard.” He seemed too satisfied with his dark joke for Otoyaemon to laugh._

_Otoyaemon had never helped someone dress before, but it was a weirdly intimate process, particularly when he had to wrap his arms around Tokinosuke to help him tie the obi. Tokinosuke kept looking down to guide him, making it extra awkward when Otoyaemon looked up to gauge his expression to see if he’d done it right. At least once he was sure Tokinosuke leaned down, his bangs brushing Otoya’s hair, but it was probably just to check his progress._

_“Thank you for helping me,” he said when it was all done. “As you’ve held up your end of the deal, I’ll hold up mine. I won’t move; feel free to execute me as you wish.”_

_How he could say it so simply was beyond Otoyaemon, who had expected some sort of trick, but Tokinosuke had his arms outstretched, clearly waiting for it. “This is just me doing my job, okay? Nothing personal.” He drew his sword, leveling it at Tokinosuke’s chest. _

_“I forgive you,” Tokinosuke said._

_The breath left Otoyaemon’s lungs, and when he looked up, he could see Tokinosuke’s gaze was vacant again. He hadn’t asked for forgiveness, but he felt the warmth at being given it anyways, almost as if he’d been waiting for those words for so long. “I didn’t—”_

_“—you didn’t have any choice. And I’m so sorry.”_

_The words on their own didn’t make any sense; Otoyaemon’s head ached. Had it hurt before? He couldn’t tell. “I’ll make it quick,” he mumbled through the pain, trying to focus. _

_His sword cut through the flesh easily as he stabbed, using his entire bodyweight to strike a decisive blow. He practically fell to the floor beside the dying Tokinosuke, who was gasping for air, his back arched. His hand scrabbled against Otoyaemon’s clothing until he got a fist into his scarf, pulling him down with a surprising amount of strength in his dying body. “I found you,” he gasped, his hand sliding against Otoyaemon’s cheek again. His hands were cold. “I thought I found you then, but I found you now. Even if this is all, I’m glad.”_

_He had to be hallucinating; Otoyaemon had never seen the man in his life. Still, he was dying, and he wasn’t cruel enough to pretend otherwise for Tokinosuke’s dying words. “I’m here,” he promised._

_“I wish I’d found you sooner . . . before I was your target.”_

_Otoyaemon shushed him. “It’ll be better in the morning,” he promised before yanking the blade from Tokinosuke’s stomach. There was a faint protesting gurgle, a sharp intake of breath, and blood began to rush out of the cavity._

_“Stay with me,” Tokinosuke asked._

_He only had a few more minutes to live anyways. Otoyaemon did._

“Oi! Otoya!”

Syo’s voice snapped him out of his nap, and he blinked hard at the lights of his dressing room. Masato was there too, standing over him with a faintly concerned look on his face, but at least Cecil was nowhere to be found. “Oh. Hi guys!” he said, trying to catch up. He didn’t even remember falling asleep, but here he was, sprawled out on the bench. “Sorry, did I fall asleep?”

“Yeah, and you were acting really weird!” Syo said, shaking his shoulder a few times.

“We couldn’t wake you up. Have you been sleeping okay after practice?” Masato asked. 

“I think so. I don’t remember being tired, but maybe I am.” He took the bottle of water Masato offered him and took a swig. “I’ll take tonight off, once we’re done with rehearsal, I guess. Sorry to worry you.”

“Just rest up for tomorrow, okay? The director wants us all on set, right now!”

It wasn’t until they’d started rehearsing for Tenka Muteki no Shinobi Michi that Otoya remembered what his dream had been about. He’d been playing this character, and he’d killed . . . Tokiya. The princess. What a ridiculous thought, mistaking Tokiya for a princess. He was beautiful, sure, but even his standing posture always seemed so dominant that it would be hard to mistake him for a girl. Still, he couldn’t get the dream out of his mind, particularly not the parts that didn’t make sense.

Dreams don’t always make sense, he reminded himself, to no avail.

_“I found you,”_ Tokinosuke had said as he’d died. But hadn’t it been Otoyaemon who had found him? What had he meant? And what did it mean? Was it some sort of weird dream symbolism that Otoya was doomed to never figure out?

“What’s wrong?” Cecil asked as they wrapped up filming. 

“Do you . . . believe that dreams mean something?” Otoya sked.

Cecil smiled. “I do. I dreamed of all of you before I joined STARISH, even though I had never met you before. It was the Muses, giving me a sign as to what I was meant to do. Perhaps they are speaking to you too.”

“That’s technically impossible,” Masato said, interrupting them as he picked up his water bottle from the ground. “They say that the only people you can see in dreams are people whose faces you’ve seen before. Not that the Muses aren’t sending you signals,” he quickly amended, “but you had to have seen us somewhere. Maybe on a billboard or something after our debut.”

“So then, if that’s true, maybe we have dreams about people we know doing things that people we don’t know are going to do. Right?” Otoya asked.

Cecil shrugged. Masato nodded. “I suppose that’s true. Why do you ask?”

“I just had a weird dream,” he said, laughing it off before they could ask more. Tokiya must have been the substitution his brain had filled in; after all, none of that made sense, even about Tokiya. Otoya hadn’t been hiding. There was no one to find. 

Tokiya wasn’t home that evening, although Otoya heard the front door open and close as he got ready for bed. They could talk about it tomorrow; it was late, and Tokiya was probably tired anyways. He snuggled down into the blankets, trying to erase the dream from his mind.

When Tokiya asked him how he slept the next morning, Otoya couldn’t remember dreaming at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes about this AU: 
> 
> Tokinosuke is supposedly the princess of warriors mentioned in Tenka Muteki (the silent protagonist). Because as far as I know there's no indications of what the princess is capable of, I wanted to give her something special: the gift of a medium. Because this gift strikes without warning, being an actual warrior would be out of the question, and as a male heir, that would not be something you'd want to advertise, hence the "princess" bit. I played with a lot of different ideas for Tokiya's role, but this was the one that I was happiest with, so I ran with it.
> 
> The Otonushi joke is because Otonushi is written 音主, with the first kanji meaning "sound" and the second as "lord" or "master".


	3. 1864 - Pirates of the Frontier

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just can’t help that I feel drawn to you, and I don’t know why. I don’t understand why. Even from the first moment, I just . . . knew you.”
> 
> “Maybe we knew each other from a previous life."
> 
> “Like this?”
> 
> “Maybe. I don’t know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't think anyone knows how hard it is for me not to write Pirates of the Caribbean rather than Pirates of the Frontier, but it's always there in the back of my mind . . . 
> 
> It's unfortunate that Tokiya's rank is Captain in this, because it causes a little bit of confusion, but every time it's mentioned in dialogue, Captain is referring to Tokiya, in case it's confusing.
> 
> I also haven't listened to Pirates of the Frontier yet, but . . . yolo???

_“We really can’t keep meeting like this.”_

_Ikki repressed a smile and leaned in for another kiss. “You always complain about that after you get what you want, never before. I’m starting to feel used, Captain.”_

_“You’re impossible.” _

_Ikki was sure that look was supposed to be scolding, but when Captain Tokiya Ichinose of the Port Shining Navy rested his head back on the pillow with an expression that could only be described as satisfied, it was hard to feel anything but pride. He was such a stickler for the rules that it should have been impossible to get him into bed, but when the captain made the first move, well, Ikki wasn’t about to say no._

_It was casual between them; it had to be, with Tokiya’s job and Ikki’s dedication to the seas. Whenever they stopped in port, Ikki couldn’t resist a visit though, especially if he’d managed to rile up the navy during the visit. Pirates were not appreciated in the port. _

_Or perhaps they were, but just by one specific captain._

_There were moments like this, when it was quiet and they were curled up together, that Ikki entertained the idea of hanging up his tricorn. It wasn’t that he felt something missing in his life of adventure—if anything, he would love to spread the freedom to everyone he knows—but it was more a sense that this is what he was missing out on. A warm embrace, soft kisses, smiles he knew were for him alone; he wanted all of it. On miserably cold nights at sea, he fantasized about being in Tokiya’s bed, warm and safe and hiding from the world and the responsibility of his crew’s lives. It was a heavy burden to bear in comparison to the respite he got here._

_“Have you ever . . . thought about being something different?” he dared to ask Tokiya._

_“Hm?” _

_“You couldn’t just stop being Captain of the Royal Navy now, could you?”_

_“I suppose not. Why; are the high seas not doing it for you anymore?” There was the hint of a teasing smile on Tokiya’s lips, but when he cracked one eye open to look at Ikki, it was serious._

_“No, that’s not it. I just . . .” He trailed off, unable to put what he wanted to say into words. _

_“We’re living a double life right now,” Tokiya said finally._

_“Yeah.”_

_Ikki felt fingers lace with his own, and he instinctively clasped them back. _

_“I’m not sure there’s a way to resolve it at the moment though,” Tokiya admitted, both eyes opening as he gazed at the ceiling above them. “You can’t stop being a pirate and I can’t stop being the head of the anti-pirate movement,” he said with the barest hint of humor._

_“They do say that hate and love are very similar to one another,” Ikki said more cheerfully than he felt. _

_Tokiya shifted onto his side, staring Ikki in the eyes. It was an intimate look, which they’ve shared many of, but it caused something protective to well in his chest, and he squeezed the hand in his. “I just can’t help that I feel drawn to you, and I don’t know why. I don’t understand why. Even from the first moment, I just . . . knew you.”_

_“Maybe we knew each other from a previous life,” Ikki suggested without much thought. It’s occurred to him before, in the early days when they weren’t so intertwined with each other. In quiet moments at the helm, he would recap his dreams and wonder if he hadn’t seen Tokiya Ichinose somewhere in there, because the recognition he’d felt the first moment they’d looked at each other wasn’t normal. _

_“Like this?” Tokiya asked, motioning to their naked bodies beneath the blankets._

_“Maybe. I don’t know.”_

_Tokiya’s free hand reached out to stroke his hair. “What are you thinking about?” he asked quietly._

_“Some days . . . you make me want to give it all up to be with you,” Ikki admitted, his voice cracking from the low volume he’d mustered up. “Living away from the sea to be here, with you.”_

_“It’ll never work,” Tokiya said, but his volume matched Ikki’s. “You’re too wanted in this town. It’ll be no time at all before you’re discovered for being a former pirate.”_

_“And if you came with me?”_

_Tokiya let out a short, humorless laugh. “Me? Become a pirate?”_

_“We’re not bad people, you know. We don’t do the raping and pillaging, just the . . . freedom. Going where the wind takes us. From one whirlwind adventure to another.”_

_“I know.” Tokiya leaned over to give his forehead a soft kiss, possibly in apology. “But to live in anarchy? Without rules or a society to lean upon? Me?”_

_“You could love it. You’ve never tried it.”_

_“But I love law and order too. My purpose in life is to make people feel safer. Losing that would be devastating to me. How could I feel comfortable in a society I’m not helping make a safer place?”_

_Although it hurt, Ikki understood. It was the same feeling he felt at the idea of stopping his travels: a sense of loss at something he’d never truly ever known. He’d lived his entire life being tied down to only a ship; he couldn’t imagine giving it up to get up every morning in the same place to do the same thing, day after day, for a small salary and stability. “My place is out there and yours is here,” he murmured._

_“It is,” Tokiya agreed. _

_“Someday you’ll have to get married,” Ikki reminded him when he could think the entire thought without the lance of pain that stopped his breath._

_“Someday,” Tokiya said. “But a marriage does not make love.”_

_Love was too painful to think about. They were always careful not to say the word, but now Tokiya had crossed that line, and it felt uncomfortable, almost like he could hear him say “I love you” in his head. Ikki gave a long exhale to shake the idea, and then leaned over for another kiss. “As much as I like your voice, there are better things you could be doing with your mouth,” he said when they parted._

_“I have to be back on shift soon,” Tokiya said._

_“I can be quick,” Ikki promised. It didn’t matter that Tokiya would never be his, he told himself. He had the sea; that was all he needed._

“Hey!”

The shake to his shoulder almost threw Otoya off the couch, and he was struck with the sensation of falling just seconds after he woke, coupled with a panicked screech. A moment later, he fell against what was definitely a warm body. He knew even before he opened his eyes that it had to be Tokiya, because his cheek was pressed against the fuzzy sweater Otoya loved taking out of the laundry because of how soft it was. “What?” he garbled, still halfway asleep.

“What do you mean ‘what’?!” Tokiya snapped.

“Why are you so upset?” Would Tokiya be mad if he just kept his head resting against his chest? It was so warm and soft . . .

And then he remembered his dream and he couldn’t get up fast enough.

Luckily, this Tokiya was clothed, although the dream Tokiya had definitely been . . . well, a dream. He’d been expanses of smooth perfect skin and insistent kisses and Otoya could feel the tips of his ears start to turn red. 

They were way too close after having what was essentially a sex dream about his best friend and roommate.

Otoya scrambled to his feet, helping Tokiya up to try to cover up some of the awkwardness. It didn’t seem to work though; Tokiya peered at him closely, leaning forward and then raising his hand. Otoya flailed, falling backwards onto the couch again.

“Are you feeling okay?” Tokiya asked in concern.

“Fine! I’m fine!” he insisted.

This time when Tokiya’s hand brushed his forehead, he didn’t flinch. His fingers felt cool against Otoya’s forehead, the soft pads resting only for a moment before batting some of his fringe out of the way of his eyes. “You don’t feel any warmer than normal,” he murmured.

“I’m really okay!”

Tokiya frowned. “I couldn’t wake you up for like five minutes. Even a countdown didn’t work.”

“Sorry for worrying you. I’m probably just tired.” Pirates of the Frontier rehearsals took a lot out of him, and he’d been napping everywhere. 

“Maybe you should call it a night rather than sleeping on our couch,” Tokiya suggested, moving towards the kitchen. 

Otoya stood and stretched, feeling his spine pop with the movement. “Hey, can I ask you a question?”

“When have you ever asked before?” Standing, Otoya could watch Tokiya fill the teapot before putting it on the stove. 

“Do you think . . . our places are the same?”

“What?” 

“Our places in life. Like, where we’ll end up. Do you think they’re the same?”

“We _are_ in the same group.”

“Never mind,” Otoya muttered. He probably wasn’t making any sense anyways, so asking Tokiya to suddenly become a mind reader was unfair.

“Otoya.” He waited until Otoya paused. “I believe . . . we’re meant to be up on stage together, yes. I don’t know if that answers your question, but . . .”

Warmth flooded through him, and he couldn’t repress the smile on his face. “I believe we are too,” he agreed. “Thank you, Tokiya.”

The smile he got in return was enough to make him contemplate kissing Tokiya, which was a thought that he should _not_ be having and he blamed on that dream. 

“I’m, uh . . . going to go to bed. Good night!” he said, excusing himself before he could have any more inappropriate thoughts about his roommate. 

“Good night.”

As he hid under the blanket, it briefly occurred to him that it was the second dream he’d had about work that his brain had created a role for Tokiya in, but he dismissed it. The Tenka Muteki no Shinobi Michi dream had been a fluke, created out of his need to make some sort of fill-in for the unvoiced female protagonist. The captain role was completely different this time. It had been a role created . . . apparently to satisfy some inner kink Otoya had. That thought only made him feel worse.

He listened to the sounds of Tokiya opening the cupboards and pouring hot water in his cup for instant coffee before setting the kettle in the sink to be washed. Would it be so bad to be in love with Tokiya? As he finally drifted off to sleep, he acknowledged that maybe it wouldn’t be. Maybe he’d even enjoy it.

“Have you ever been on a boat?” Otoya asked Tokiya over breakfast the next morning. The semi-terrified look on his roommate’s face answered that question completely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite AUs that I've ever created, and probably my longest one to date. 
> 
> Tokiya Ichinose is a Captain of the Royal Navy, although he's mostly on land these days in Port Shining, helping to defend the port. He's smart, talented, determined, and utterly taken off guard by a handsome pirate captain. I have thoughts of a full AU with them, but for now, this is fine.
> 
> (Also, yes, Nancy, this was the chapter lol).


	4. 3264 - Polaris

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m right here. I’m right with you, Tokiya.”
> 
> “You’re not. You’re not here.”
> 
> “Tokiya. I’ve never left here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be up front and say Polaris is my least favorite of the dramas, so I did struggle a little bit with this one. I ended up liking where it ended up, but I do remember being halfway through this chapter going "idk if I'm gonna end up finishing this fic . . ."

_“Humanoid Arms, engaging.”_

_“Synchronization rate is at 95%.” Cecil’s voice crackled over the speaker, and Tokiya took a deep breath. _

_“Shinomiya?”_

_“Ready for battle!”_

_“Kurusu?”_

_“All good here. Let’s do this!”_

_Tokiya’s stomach dropped as the arms took off, settling uncomfortably lower than it felt like it should be, but that was normal. It was the displacement of gravity; the sensation would wear off soon. _

_“The Enemy is by the East Solar Belt, right?” Syo asked. He was new to their team, probably assigned to make sure they wouldn’t fall apart at any moment._

_“Correct.”_

_“Are you sure it’s wise to have our first mission be here?” Natsuki asked hesitantly._

_“We’ve been off duty for three months now. At some point we have to get back in the field. We’ve mourned long enough,” Tokiya snapped._

_“Are you sure?” Cecil asked hesitantly._

_“Oi, are you guys getting cold feet?” Syo asked. “If you are, we need to turn back now.”_

_“We’re fine,” Tokiya said before anyone else could intervene. “Obviously these nerves are affecting our synchronization rate.”_

_“Syo-chan is new too, and it’s rare to fully synch the first time out with a new crew,” Natsuki offered._

_“There’s a small enemy fleet at two o’clock!” Cecil said, interrupting them._

_“They’ll figure out what it means to mess with Shining Universe!” Syo declared._

_For a moment, pain lanced through Tokiya, but he took another deep breath and pushed it down. “Get ready for an Arms Symphony!” he warned them, already starting to visualize it in his mind. The particle beam began to charge, and for a moment, everything was right in the world. It was the four of them, synched together, breaths all in unison, and when the attack launched, he felt the familiar accomplishment steal through him. _

_“Okay, you were right,” Cecil admitted. “We’re doing fine.”_

_Tokiya’s robot arms swung out at a few of the straggling Enemy forces, decimating them easily. This was all training; he’d learned how to do this his entire life. He could pilot better than he could breathe. “Told you,” he said without malice._

_“We’re not even to the Solar Belt yet,” Syo interrupted. “Don’t get too cocky.”_

_“Too late,” Natsuki said far too cheerfully for it to be a true insult. _

_“Looks like we drifted during that fight; recalibrating destination,” Cecil said, their joined ship stalling for just a moment before it corrected its course. _

_“How’s the sympathy synchronization going, Natsuki?” Syo asked. _

_“It’s harder than I thought it would be! My sympathy scores have always been high, but this is my first time as the lead sympathy pilot . . .” Tokiya could hear Natsuki’s little sigh, and he had to fight his own mind for a second to make sure it didn’t stray too far. “Ah, sorry, Tokiya,” was the immediate response. “How is the synchronization piloting, Syo-chan?”_

_“We’re keeping it up better than I thought,” Syo said. “We’re up to 96% after that Arms Symphony.”_

_“We’re entering the East Solar Belt,” Cecil informed them. _

_The rocks felt familiar as they floated through space, and Tokiya tried to keep his stomach from curdling. He shouldn’t have felt affected by it, but he absolutely did; all of those reminders of their normal fourth pilot . . ._

_“Our sympathy rate is dropping; is everyone okay?” Natsuki asked._

_It was hard to remember that everything they did or felt was public knowledge. “Fine,” Tokiya said, swallowing the bile rising in his throat._

_“Sorry, Natsuki . . . it’s just hard not to think about it,” Cecil said._

_“Maybe we should turn back,” Syo suggested._

_“Is our synch rate down?” Tokiya asked._

_“No, it’s still at 96%.”_

_“Let’s keep going then,” he said._

_“Enemy forces at eleven o’clock,” Cecil said. “They have some sort of technology I don’t recognize . . .”_

_“It’s a blaster that can wreak havoc on our synch and sympathy rates. They’ll try to separate us; divide and conquer,” Syo said, filling them in on the new technology. “Whatever happens, if you get hit with that, ignore it. It messes with the synch vectors in the mecha.”_

_“What do you mean it messes with them?” Natsuki asked._

_“No idea. That’s just what Masa said happened on our last outing together; I didn’t get hit. It does damage them though, so we might not be able to do the Arms Symphony if that happens.”_

_“Evasive maneuvers,” Tokiya said. “Prioritize defense, and don’t get hit then. How many do you see, Cecil?”_

_“At least ten, maybe more.”_

_“Split up then. Let’s pick them off one by one,” Tokiya decided. _

_“Roger!” came three voices in unison. Slowly, they detached themselves from the base ship, leaving it to float uselessly in space until they returned._

_Piloting the smaller arms was much easier than the big one; there was very little synch involved. Sometimes, when they were all four together, it was a little slower to respond, but the miniship turned like a dream. Tokiya weaved through five of the ships, targeting the sixth. He had graduated at the top of his class for a reason, and he was more than happy to show off his mastery. The Enemy ships were never hard; they couldn’t take more than a hit or two from an arms ship, and Tokiya intended to see it all the way through. _

_And that was when his synch rate dropped. The sensor on the overhead display flashed red, his ship losing power. Was this what Syo had meant? He took another deep breath, focusing hard._

_“You can do it, Tokiya!”_

_He felt like someone had set him on fire, his hand instinctively clutching at his heart. “You . . . no . . .”_

_“It’s okay! That doesn’t matter, right? You have to get your synch rate back up!”_

_That’s right. Whatever voice it was, it didn’t matter. He was in the middle of a battle; he couldn’t afford to be distracted. Not by anyone._

_“Okay, remember? Just like you taught me; deep breaths! In, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Hold, two, three—are you okay?”_

_It hurt; it hurt too much to hear him count like that. “Stop,” he begged. “Please, just stop!”_

_Another light on his overhead display started flashing, but he ignored it._

_“You have to get up, you have to fight! Don’t give up now!”_

_“I . . . I can’t . . .”_

_“You have to! Please, otherwise you’re going to—”_

_“—what does it matter?” he shouted, feeling tears pooling in his eyes. “What does it matter at all? We just keep fighting and fighting and fighting but it’s never going to bring you back . . . I want it to bring you back . . .”_

_“Tokiya . . .”_

_“They killed you. They killed you and I should be angry, but all I can feel is lost.” _

_“I’m right here. I’m right with you, Tokiya.”_

_A third light began to flash, and the siren blared. _

_“You’re not. You’re not here.”_

_“Tokiya. I’ve never left here.” Otoya’s voice was quiet, and it hurt even more than his shouting did. “I’ve been here ever since you left me here.”_

_“I didn’t want to leave . . . I’m so sorry.”_

_“You had to. I understand. And now I want you to leave again.”_

_“No! No, don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me.”_

_The overhead panel went dark. Gravity began to vacate the arms ship, his seatbelt restraints the only thing that kept him from floating away. There was no answer to his pleas._

_“Otoya? Otoya, please! Answer me!”_

_No response._

_“Otoya!”_

_His tears had started to condensate on the other side of his visor, blurring his vision even more than it already was. _

_“Please . . . come back to me . . . Otoya . . .”_

_He could imagine the former synchronization pilot responding with the cheeriest “I’m here,” meant to reassure Tokiya that he wasn’t going anywhere. Things were starting to become indistinct, colors fading into one another. He could recognize the shock of red hair approaching him from anywhere though. _

_“Otoya . . .” He could see Otoya’s hands reach out and grab his arms, even if he couldn’t feel the touch. He was there, holding onto Tokiya just like he had the first time they’d kissed in front of the simulator._

_The fogged helmet kept him from seeing Otoya’s expression, and it was only a second of contemplation before he popped the visor off, the lack of oxygen stealing his last words._

_“I love you.”_

“Can you hear me?”

Tokiya blinked, his bleary eyes trying to sort out the dark figures looming over him. “What . . . happened?” he asked once he realized one of them was wearing a medic uniform.

“You fell off the stage and passed out. Follow my finger with your eyes?”

Tokiya did what he was asked, enduring the few tests to ensure he didn’t have a concussion before he was allowed to sit up. 

“Does your head hurt?”

He shook his head. It felt mostly normal, even if everything didn’t quite feel real. 

“You don’t appear to have a concussion, but you were unconscious for a few minutes. I’d like to take you to the hospital and get you a CT scan, just to make sure there’s no bleeding.”

That sounded serious enough that he didn’t argue, plus, the director was fixing him with a stare that told him any protests would go unheard. And, well, what he said went, so Tokiya found himself loaded up into the ambulance.

“How long was I out?” he finally asked once he’d regained his courage. 

“About eight minutes. It’s probably nothing. Aijima-san said you’d been working yourself very hard, so you could have just taken an impromptu nap if you’ve been skimping on it.” The medic wrapped the blood pressure cuff around his arm. “Some people do crash like that.”

Polaris had been the only thing he’d really thought about consistently for a month, so he supposed it could be said he’d been working hard.

“We’ve contacted your emergency contact; I don’t want you taking a taxi alone or anything for a bit even if you are released, okay?” 

Tokiya resisted the urge to clench his hand when the cuff started inflating.

“Anything feel off?”

Tokiya shook his head. “I had a weird dream, but . . .”

“While you were unconscious?”

He nodded.

“That’s a good sign; it means you probably just took a little micronap while we were all worrying about you. The unconscious mind doesn’t dream, or at least that’s what we were taught in medical school.” The medic shrugged. The blood pressure machine beeped, and he checked it before removing the cuff from Tokiya’s arm. “Your blood pressure is a little high, but nothing too worrisome.”

“It’s always high.”

The medic gave a consoling tut with his tongue. “Ah, you’re one of those, huh? I guess even celebrities are affected.”

His admittance to the hospital was uneventful, and, after the nurse promised him they’d be quick with the CT, he was alone for the first time since he’d woken up. He could still remember zero gravity when he closed his eyes, floating as far as the seatbelt would allow him to, reaching out for Otoya. Obviously he had been a figment of Tokiya’s imagination in the dream—the helmet wouldn’t have allowed his hair to show, so he’d have had to have his helmet off in space—but Tokiya had wanted him so dearly to be real. There was a large part of him that believed it too, that Otoya must be dead, his dream and the reality blurring together until they were almost one.

Of course, that belief was dashed the moment Otoya barged into his room, practically throwing the door off the hinges in his panic. “Tokiya!”

“I’m fine,” he tried to say, but Otoya still embraced him anyways. He was shaking, more than Tokiya was at least, his entire body trembling enough that the hospital bed rattled. 

“Natsuki said you fell off the stage and didn’t wake up for ten minutes!”

To be fair, Natsuki obviously hadn’t lied, but he should have known Otoya would panic over that. “I’m fine,” he promised. “Really, this is just a formality. The paramedic thinks I’ve been working too hard and took the opportunity to take a nap.”

The worry didn’t fade from Otoya’s face. “You’ve been overworking yourself again?” he asked. “Tokiya . . .”

He hated that tone; it was somewhere between disappointed and devastated. “Message received. I’ll take better care of myself. I promise.”

“You’d better.” Otoya pouted, puffing out his cheeks, but the concern didn’t fade. He perched on the side of the bed and took Tokiya’s hand. “It’s not worth killing yourself over.”

Tokiya squeezed his hand, having to restrain the weird urge to pull Otoya back into his arms. “I know it’s not. And I have the feeling the director is going to want some words with me when I go in to practice tomorrow.”

“You’re in for it then.” That made Otoya smile, just a bit, but it was enough. 

How fortunate was it that Otoya wasn’t killed by the Enemy.

And then he realized what he’d just thought. It was like the dream had somehow merged seamlessly into his consciousness, so that it was hard to remember what was real and what wasn’t. Obviously he needed to start prioritizing sleep, if this was what it was going to do to him. “Do you ever have dreams about work?” he asked.

“Yeah. These shows especially. I guess it’s all that worrying about disappointing people.”

“Yeah . . . that’s probably it,” he agreed, trying not to wonder what it meant that Otoya’s character had been a complete fabrication of his mind.

“Maybe we’ll get to work together for the next one. With Tokiya there, I won’t be so worried.” Otoya squeezed his hand again.

“I’ll make you work twice as hard to keep up,” he promised.

Otoya grinned. “I’m counting on it!”

He had the urge to kiss Otoya then, but that must have been another delusion.

The CT checked out clear, and Otoya insisted on making Tokiya dinner before shooing him into bed. He was already tired somehow, and he was pretty sure he was asleep before his head even hit the pillow.

When he woke up, Otoya told him good morning, and he barely stopped himself from saying “I love you,” even though he didn’t know why the words sprung to his mind in the first place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Otoya's role in Polaris changed about 500 times before I settled on where he ended up, partially because Polaris isn't particularly clear on the pilot roles in the original drama. This takes place several years after the drama, where the unvoiced protagonist has either stepped down or transferred to a different team. Otoya took her place as the main Sympathy pilot (again, not entirely sure how this works, but she had high sympathy in the drama . . .) and was with the team of Cecil, Natsuki, and Tokiya for a while before he was killed by the Enemy. This fic takes place three months later.
> 
> Because they similarly don't talk about how the sync works, I've made the assumption that it's like Pacific Rim and there's some sort of mental link between the pilot and the ship, which is what the Enemy uses in this attack against Tokiya to make him hallucinate Otoya.


	5. 957 - Lycoris no Mori

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why do you have such kind eyes?”
> 
> “Because you’re the one I’m looking at.” 
> 
> “But why . . . why are your smiles so sad then?”
> 
> “Because my chest hurts when I’m with you.”
> 
> “Where does your heart belong?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter probably everyone has been waiting for, and what is the crowning achievement of this AU.

“Are you feeling okay?” Ren asked Tokiya, his brow furrowed in concern. 

To be honest, he was not. He’d had dreams about Lycoris no Mori ever since they were given the script: vivid, restless dreams that kept him from going back to sleep once he’d escaped. They all felt real within minutes of waking, but then when he tried to remember hours later, it was an indistinct blur. The Shining Masterpiece Shows had gotten into his head every time, and it seemed this one was no different.

“I’m fine. Why?”

“You look a bit pale, and you had that whole . . . episode today.” Ren waved his hand around indistinctly. 

“It’s nothing; I just zoned out.”

“Icchi—”

“I’ll go to bed early tonight, I promise,” Tokiya said before Ren could protest any more. He intended to find Otoya to leave before Ren could ask more questions, but a hand in the back of his jacket made him stop. Tokiya gave an irritated sigh, whipping around to snap at him, until he saw Ren’s expression. “Are _you_ okay?”

Ren looked deadly serious, his eyes vacant and vulnerable. “Have you ever . . . have you ever wondered if these stories we’re reenacting are real?”

“H—huh?”

And then Ren blinked, and the spell was gone. “Just a joke,” he said, although there was a strange note in his voice that didn’t sound like he was joking.

“No, what do you mean, they’re real?” Tokiya pressed.

Ren swallowed and looked away. “Like the characters in the stories we’re playing . . . like they once lived and we’re just reenacting their dramas for entertainment value.”

“Art does imitate life,” Tokiya said. “But some of the things we’ve played are illogical. Magical forests with werewolves and monsters? Futuristic mechas? You even played a vampire last time.”

“Have you ever heard of the Many Worlds Interpretation of quantum mechanics?”

“No, and I’m surprised you have.”

Ren quirked a grin. “The Many Worlds Interpretation says that there are many universes running in parallel to our own, each of which could only be different by one action or by a million actions. But something that happened in the past could have impacted our own universe so that those things don’t exist. What if, in the past, there were magical forests with werewolves? But our universe changed somehow to prevent them from being remembered? And that’s just one example. Anything that you can think of could be theoretically possible in a different world.”

“So, you think that these stories are coming somehow from alternate universes?”

Ren chuckled. “I don’t know what I think. I just know that these feel . . . different from a normal acting gig, and I don’t think it’s just because we’re all working together.”

For a moment, Tokiya thought about asking him about the dreams, but the implication there was too great. His own character, Randolph, was a monster that redeemed himself in the eyes of the audience. Victor, Ren’s character, was a hero that was revealed to be a monster through the events of the drama. The idea of Ren dreaming about that night after night like he himself was . . .

“You’re doing okay?” he asked, afraid to ask any more.

Ren nodded. “I’m right as rain.”

“Hey!” Otoya waved at them as he approached with Cecil at his side. “Are you ready to go?”

“Where should we grab dinner?” Cecil asked, his head cocked to the side.

“We should make it quick; we need more practice, and now would be perfect, with the crew gone home,” Tokiya suggested. 

Within five minutes, Ren had located the nearest Yoshinoya, which was better than finding a vending machine with hot food in it, at least. Tokiya ate his salted mackerel meal quietly, thinking over what Ren had said. He knew that he had been dreaming about the Shining Masterpiece Shows since the first one, Joker Trap, although his dreams were fuzzy and indistinct at this point. Next had been Polaris, and he remembered dreaming when he fell off the stage and was sent to the hospital. Somehow, being unable to recall the dream in detail made his chest ache, like there was something missing there. What had it been?

“Tokiya?”

“What?” he asked, moving his attention back to the conversation.

“We were just talking about what to rehearse tonight,” Cecil said with a smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

“What were the suggestions?”

“We talked about the cave scene, since you and I can do that one and then Ren and Cecil have their whole thing the morning after. Or there’s only one scene all four of us are in,” Otoya said, his spoonful of curry luckily hovering in the air until he finished speaking.

“The ending,” Tokiya said.

“We haven’t gotten to it with the director yet, but we might want to run through it and see if we can’t refine it first,” Ren said. “It’s a heavy scene. Lots of emotions.”

Cecil looked down and pushed the gyudon around in his bowl.

“There’s no reason to delay it, right?” Otoya asked, but it sounded forced. Tokiya looked up to see the mild panic in Otoya’s eyes, only present for a beat before he smothered it down to take another bite of curry.

It felt uncharacteristically somber around the table. Dread was growing in the pit of Tokiya’s stomach, and he wasn’t entirely sure why. He’d already read the ending; was he simply concerned at how hard it would be to get across to the audience? That made sense, he decided. That’s all he was concerned about. “Then we should finish up,” he said, feeling far more confident than he felt.

Practice had been going fine for a few minutes. They started from the top of the scene, changed where Otoya came in and how Tokiya was standing to wait for him. But it had quickly gone downhill when they’d started saying their lines. Somehow, Tokiya didn’t see Otoya in front of him, but an identical man in a red hood and barely suppressed pain in his eyes. 

_“Did you know that the leaf and the flower of the lycoris never meet?”_

Something felt wrong, and Tokiya tried to open his mouth, but he couldn’t, whether it was through panic or something else. The empty stage faded around them, a huge field of lycoris in bloom taking its place. It was the wrong time of year, he wanted to protest, but that didn’t matter, not while Otoya was still speaking.

“_When the flower is in bloom, the leaves stay bare. And when the flower dies, that’s when the leaves begin to bud. It’s a little bit like us, don’t you think?”_

Otoya’s head had cocked to the side, but the normal feeling of warmth was gone from it. He didn’t understand what Otoya was saying; they were here, in this moment, together. He tried to stutter out a question, but it was ignored.

_“Why do you have such kind eyes?”_

“Because you’re the one I’m looking at.” The answer came to him unbidden. He’d have never said anything like that out loud if he’d been in his right mind, but all he could think about was the guarded look he was on the receiving end of.

_“But why . . . why are your smiles so sad then?”_

“Because my chest hurts when I’m with you.” Something resonated deep in him then, because it had hurt once upon a time, hadn’t it? Back when he was HAYATO, seeing Otoya’s bubbly demeanor had made something ache inside of him, that he had discarded as white-hot jealousy at watching an uneducated kid with talent do naturally what he himself had failed to do with any sort of longevity. But now it didn’t; now he depended on Otoya more than he could say.

“_Where does your heart belong?_”

“It belongs with you.” He hadn’t even had to think about that response. It came naturally, a logical progression from where they had started until now. His heart belonged with Otoya Ittoki in every way possible, because that was the only place he trusted it to be.

_“Liar!”_

Pain seared across every cell in his body, the revulsion making him physically recoil.

_“I trusted you! You were so warm . . . I thought you understood me. I thought that you understood that you and I were connected, even without us saying it! Was I the only one who thought that?”_

“Blood—” he choked, because that’s who he was. The man in the red cloak, blazing with an otherworldly anger; that was Blood. And he was the pathetic mess of a monster that had fallen for him. “You’re wrong!”

_“But you deceived me! You were planning on kidnapping me, weren’t you? In exchange for money . . . if you felt that, then how could you—”_

“I felt it!” Randolph waded through the flowers until he was standing in front of Blood, his hands gently grasping the shoulders that the red hood—the symbol of his entire betrayal—rested upon. “I felt it too. I felt happy when I was with you, and I . . . I never knew I could feel like that. My feelings are not a lie, I promise!” 

Blood’s body easily fell into his arms, but he didn’t return the embrace. Randolph could feel tears wetting the fur on his shoulder. _“I loved you, but . . .”_ For a moment, Randolph thought he was going to push him away, but he didn’t. Instead, his arms shook as he reciprocated the hug. 

For a brief moment—shorter than a breath—everything felt right in the world.

And then he felt like he’d been punched, except that he’d never been punched that hard in his life. It shouldn’t have been possible to inflict that much pain upon a werewolf, and he instinctively looked around for other danger, but Blood held him firm.

The trickling of liquid down his back made him realize what had happened.

“Blood . . . why?”

_“I will . . . make this moment last forever. I won’t let them kill you; I’ll do it with my own hands!”_

He could hear the gurgle of blood as the knife exited his back, and then the pain started all over again, knocking the breath from him and making his knees collapse. Blood didn’t even stumble. He just lowered them both to the ground, his hands far too gentle for someone who had just stabbed him. “Blood—”

_“By hurting you, I’ll have the same sins as you do.”_

Don’t, he wanted to protest, even though the action was already done. Whatever afterlife existed, he and Blood shouldn’t ever be in the same place. Blood was precious and warm and brimming with hope, and the idea that he would ever erase all of that for him, a werewolf with nothing to give . . . it hurt more than the stab wound.

_“Let me release you from this harsh reality._”

And Blood’s eyes said more there than his mouth did, because he was looking at him filled with what he could only interpret to be love, even though he’d never seen it directed at him before. He raised his hand to trail across Blood’s cheek, the skin warm and flushed under his fingers. “This is . . . the best way to end my life,” he admitted, his thumb brushing a lock of hair from over Blood’s eye. “You really are a kind person.”

It was getting harder to breathe now. His lungs were expanding less and less with every breath, probably filling with blood.

“Finally . . . with this wound, I have proof that I can be happy in this miserable existence.”

Blood shifted him so that his body was supported with only one arm, the other resting in the fur on his chest. “_You’re smiling. Now I can be happy too.”_

“I’m really happy that the last thing I see will be your smiling face.”

Blood pressed a kiss onto Randolph’s forehead. It made him feel light headed, although it could have been the blood loss too. 

“Would you promise me one final thing?”

Blood nodded.

“I want you to forget about me. I want you to go somewhere that no one knows you and start a new life. I want you to see the world that we wanted to see together. I want you to be happy.” His vision blurred, and he could feel hot tears running down his face. “I want you to forget about me, and please, be happy. _Please_.”

_“How could I forget about you when right now is the happiest I’ll ever be? I’ve already fulfilled your promise.”_

Randolph couldn’t help but laugh, even as he felt pain at his body being moved again, this time, his face pressed against something warm. When he blinked the tears from his eyes, he could see Blood’s shirt collar and his neck just centimeters from his face. Instinctively, he moved closer, even if it did cause more pain. “To die in your arms . . . I’m not sure I could ever be any happier either.” He could hear Blood laugh, sounding watery. “Thank you.”

Fingers laced into Randolph’s hair, holding him closer, even as Blood’s body was wracked with sobs that moved his entire frame.

“I love you,” he said, even though he had only enough air to whisper it. His vision was fading fast, nothing else mattering but the way Blood felt against him. He was still crying for everything they had lost, the future they were supposed to create together, the love that had only been expressed moments before his death. He cried for the stolen moments they’d had and the stolen moments they were yet to have: the kisses and the smiles and the adventures. But most of all, he cried for the regret he felt at having found Blood too late for either of them to ever truly feel happiness.

“_I love you._”

And at the final beat of Randolph’s heart, time stopped.

For Tokiya, who had just felt Randolph’s being so clearly his entire existence had melded into him, it was a rather jarring awakening. Everything stayed the same—he could still see the lycoris field in the bit of vision that wasn’t consumed by Otoya’s body—but he had once again taken consciousness. Nothing moved; even Otoya’s crying had stopped suddenly.

And then he could see Cecil, moving into the lycoris field. His hood was down, his eyes glowing with an ethereal green. There was something unearthly about him, possibly that he didn’t disturb the flowers as he walked towards them, crouching over his own prone form to look into Otoya’s face. “_Your feelings will never fade, regardless of how much time passes,_” he said, his speech uninflected from Cecil’s normal disjointed speaking pattern. 

And then everything went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No AU this time, so no notes; the next time there's a postnote, it'll be my wrapup at the end!


	6. Present Day - Otoya & Tokiya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We’ve been through a lot tonight—”
> 
> “That doesn’t change anything.”
> 
> “Of course it does! It changes everything, because what emotions are mine? And what emotions are someone else’s, just traded through me over and over again? And how can you tell that what you’re feeling—any of what you’re feeling—is yours?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And the final chapter is here! There'll be a final author's note at the end, but if you've gotten this far, thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Also, I feel like no one talks about the fact that Victor would be a really hard role for Ren, and he just pulls it off flawlessly.

_“Your feelings will never fade, regardless of how much time passes.”_

“Wait!”

Otoya shot to a sitting position and immediately recoiled when his head collided with something hard. Whatever he’d hit yelped as well, and it took him a moment to realize that he was on the floor of the stage and not in the lycoris field. It had to have been a dream, but it had felt so real. He could still taste the pine in the air, the damp earth and the scent of the lycoris flowers overwhelming his nose. But even that after a moment started to fade, like he was finally being returned to his own reality.

Tokiya was hunched over, clutching his forehead, which must have been what he’d collided with when he’d sat up. His own head ached, but it felt worse than that. He felt inexplicably . . . sad for some reason, like he’d lost something but he couldn’t remember what it was. 

“You okay?” Otoya forced himself to ask, rubbing his own forehead.

“Yeah.” Tokiya looked up at him, and for just a moment, Randolph’s face from the dream flashed through his mind. “What . . . happened?”

Tokiya shook his head, using Otoya’s shoulder to stabilize himself enough to get to his feet. He was trembling; Otoya could feel it even in his fingers. He glanced over to where Tokiya was looking, and realized both Ren and Cecil were unconscious, sprawled in places he didn’t remember them standing. Cecil moaned and stirred, but Ren was still out cold.

What had happened? Nothing was very clear; he remembered them practicing their lines and then . . . just the dream without any sort of cue as to what had started their slumber. 

“Huh?” Cecil asked, sitting up and rubbing his eyes. He was breathing hard, and Otoya realized all of them were. They were all panting, like they’d run a marathon or all had the same nightmare all at once.

“Ren?” Tokiya asked, his voice shaking.

Still no answer.

Cecil, who was the closest, crawled over to him. “Ren? Ren!” He shook his bandmate, but still received no response.

Tokiya staggered over to him, and Otoya took a moment to find his balance before he did too. Ren was still, even if his chest was heaving with each quick breath he took in and out. His face was flushed. Tokiya had just suggested calling a doctor when Ren suddenly shot up, every muscle in his body tense, and the look in his eyes devastated.

The next moment, he had broken down sobbing.

Seeing Ren cry was always a rare occurrence, but seeing him cry like this—full body sobs, his voice cracking every time he took a ragged breath in—was terrifying. It was instinct to move to him. Cecil cradled his head on his chest, Tokiya’s arm wrapping around Ren’s back, Otoya reaching out to lace their fingers. Maybe it was the entire situation that they didn’t understand, or the emotional ending of the drama, or even just the concern over seeing Ren like that, but Otoya suddenly felt he understood, like the thing he’d lost was there, on the tip of his tongue but far enough away that he’d lost even the ability to say it. He looked at Ren, who, for a moment, looked like Victor, and then Cecil, and then Tokiya.

Randolph.

And he could feel tears coming to his own eyes too as the weight of the dream crashed over him and he remembered Randolph’s body in his arms and his blood on his hands and the _hope_ he’d felt in his final moments about a future that they couldn’t have yet but maybe in some other future somewhere else. He remembered his hatred for Victor in the moment that he’d had to stab Randolph, because there was no escape as long as he was chasing them. He remembered his love for Randolph so acutely that it threatened to drown him. And he remembered the relief when Black Hood had taken over, because everything hurt too much for him to contemplate the next steps.

“Otoya?” Cecil asked, and he realized they were all crying for the same reason, even Tokiya.

He just shook his head and hid his face, squeezing Ren’s hand and folding his fingers around Tokiya’s when his hand gently pulled Otoya’s free one into his. 

And then they all cried, together, Ren murmuring apologies and the rest of them forgiving him because it wasn’t him, Ren wasn’t Victor, and he had nothing to apologize for. They had all made mistakes, but that was then and this was now. 

It was all in the past.

It had taken them almost an hour to get themselves back together, and then their practice had very abruptly ended as no one could explain the weird event that had just happened to them. Tokiya had been the first to wake to everyone else unconscious, and then they’d all had the same dream and that sounded more like a magical experience than any of them were really comfortable with, Cecil included.

He and Tokiya took a cab home rather than waiting for the company car; Otoya didn’t feel much like pasting on the smile to pretend he was okay for their management crew, and Tokiya didn’t argue it at all. He also didn’t argue them holding hands in the backseat of the cab. His grip was just as tight if not tighter, as if he was afraid Otoya would somehow disappear. 

And then when they were in their apartment, Tokiya embraced him so tightly Otoya thought he might start crying again. 

Randolph and Blood had certainly been together romantically, even if they’d never had the time to show it to one another. Perhaps that should have made their relationship awkward now, but for Otoya, it only made obvious what he’d felt for a while. It hadn’t even really been a mystery for him, but he’d been putting off his own feelings, like they’d go away if he just left them alone for long enough.

But what if they ran out of time? 

“I . . .” Tokiya started, but Otoya steeled his nerves and said it first.

“I love you.”

Tokiya pulled back. “Me?”

“You. Not Randolph. Tokiya Ichinose.”

Tokiya’s face went through a whirl of emotions, from surprise to concern to sadness and then settled into concern. “Otoya . . .”

“You don’t have to feel it back. But . . . I don’t want to be like Blood and Randolph. I don’t want to run out of time together and lose out on our possible future. There’s a lot of details that need to be ironed out, and it’s not going to be easy, but I’d rather fight for it if it’s even a possibility.”

Tokiya’s eyes closed and he shook his head. “We’ve been through a lot tonight—”

“That doesn’t change anything.”

A growl made Otoya step back. “Of course it does! It changes everything, because what emotions are _mine_? And what emotions are someone else’s, just traded through me over and over again? And how can you tell that what you’re feeling—_any_ of what you’re feeling—is yours?” His voice trembled, like he was scared, and it suddenly occurred to Otoya that he probably _was_ scared. Everything in the last couple hours had been terrifying for all of them involved. 

“Does it matter?”

The question stopped him short. “It _does_,” he said quietly. “Doesn’t it for you?”

He shook his head. “I think . . . I’ve always felt it, or at least before we started Lycoris no Mori. And if it’s that old . . . then maybe it’s always been a part of me. Maybe _Blood_ has always been a part of me. And if that’s true, then it’s still me.”

“And that doesn’t bother you at all? That someone else is making decisions for you?”

Otoya shook his head. “I don’t think he’s making decisions for me. If anything, maybe Black Hood did then, when he said my feelings would never fade. Maybe it was a curse. I don’t know. But I do know I love you for more than the fact that you’re Randolph, and that’s enough.”

“Curses don’t exist.”

“Neither do werewolves.”

They stared at each other for a long minute. “Why don’t you want to wait until the morning to talk about this?” Tokiya asked finally.

“Because I know you. You’ll try to pretend it never happened because you can’t explain it and ignore me until I do too. And that’s how I know you’re not Randolph.” Otoya reached out his hand. “You can think about it as much as you’d like. You can even decide that you’re not in love with me, and that’s okay. But our friendship has already changed because of this, so I’m not scared to make it change more and you shouldn’t be either.”

Tokiya stared at the outstretched hand for a very long moment. “I want time to think about it.”

“Okay.”

“And in the morning . . . we’ll talk about it. I promise.”

“Okay.” Otoya dropped his hand, returning it to his side. 

Tokiya walked towards the bathroom before pausing. “And it really is okay if I don’t feel the same?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Otoya said in reassurance. 

Tokiya nodded and then closed himself in the bathroom. 

If Tokiya was going to take time to think, then Otoya himself should as well. He’d pretended to be confident in their conversation, but some of what Tokiya had said had run true. Could he be sure that it wasn’t Blood who was in love with Randolph and simply projecting it on Tokiya? And would there be a moment that Blood disappeared, leaving only Otoya and Tokiya to struggle in a relationship neither was suited for?

He’d been telling the truth when he’d said that his feelings had started before the Lycoris no Mori script. He’d noticed it a lot more during the rehearsals for Pirates of the Frontier—just little things about Tokiya that would make him smile—but it had probably been even earlier than that when he’d actually fallen. 

His gaze settled on his lyrics notebook lying on the coffee table. Maybe it was time to write down his thoughts, just to organize them better.

Tokiya wasn’t sure what he expected to come out of the shower to, but an empty living room wasn’t it. He’d taken a long time in there, more than he’d meant to, just thinking about everything that had happened. Could he trust himself? Could he trust his own emotions? After being stabbed in the most surreal dream he’d ever experienced, he wasn’t sure of anything right now.

His heart was with Otoya but his head was telling him that his heart couldn’t be trusted. And for someone who made a living off of singing from his heart . . . that was more than a little alarming.

There was a note lying on his pillow when he entered his room, Otoya’s handwriting in messy pencil all over it, but he ignored it momentarily to throw on pajamas before sitting down to read it. 

_We’ve had a long day, and it’s probably best to talk about in the morning, so you’re right. But you gave me a lot to think about, so I want to give you some things to think about too._

_Maybe we are Blood and Randolph in some weird way. Maybe we’re connected; I don’t know. And I don’t think we’ll ever know. But I can’t say with any amount of certainty that even if we hadn’t had that dream together that we wouldn’t have ended up here of our own free will anyways. _

_I love Tokiya. And I do love him for his kind eyes, just like Randolph had. But it’s more than that. It’s the things that Randolph wasn’t for Blood. Randolph didn’t push Blood into becoming a better musician than he ever could have been on his own. Randolph didn’t console Blood when he lost all hope. He didn’t search for him in the rain, or do everything possible that he could so that Blood might stay with him. He didn’t hold Blood during his nightmares, even when he probably hated him more than anything because he was loud and annoying and Randolph had better things to do like hide his secret identity and work himself half to death._

_And that’s nothing against Randolph. But it’s everything for Tokiya. It’s who Tokiya Ichinose is. He’s determined and kind and a workaholic. And if I could, I wouldn’t change anything about him. _

_Actually, the wolf ears might be kind of cute, but that’s not the point._

_Maybe Tokiya is Randolph. But Tokiya is Tokiya too, and it’s the Tokiya part that I’m in love with._

_Even if what Black Hood said isn’t a curse, I would still choose to be by Tokiya’s side in every life, no matter how small of a role it was. I want to believe we’re meant to share the same stage too, whether that’s a literal stage or just this big stage of life we’re in right now. _

_I will always choose to be with you. _

Tokiya sat back, mulling over the letter.

It was true that Blood and Otoya didn’t share all of the same traits. They were both kind and bright spots in anyone’s life, but Otoya was far more stubborn and determined. He would have fought for their future together, the irony of which hadn’t escaped Tokiya. Perhaps this was Otoya’s way of fighting for them, making sure that what happened in the drama didn’t happen to them. He wasn’t afraid of Otoya stabbing him, of course, but just the idea that they’d somehow be separated irreparably . . .

What did his fears matter? Did it matter that his feelings might stem from Randolph? Or did it simply matter that Otoya was choosing him? Otoya, whose compassion could have gotten him anyone’s affection, was choosing him. Did it matter, then, that he didn’t necessarily understand where his love had sprung from? Maybe he understood it _more_ after Lycoris no Mori. Maybe he finally understood that he had hated Otoya and that had somehow evolved from a begrudging friendship to a love so deep he couldn’t imagine himself without it. Was he willing to risk losing that all for his fear?

He set the letter down, walking out of his own room to knock on Otoya’s door. It was mostly silent, but after a moment, Otoya answered it, still dressed in the clothes from practice. “Tokiya?” he asked, like there could have been anyone else at the door.

“I hope what Black Hood said was real,” he said quickly, before he lost his courage. “I hope that your feelings—_our_ feelings—never change.”

Understanding dawned on Otoya’s face. “Then—”

“I love you too.”

“Me?”

“You.” Tokiya held his hand out, and Otoya didn’t hesitate before putting his own in it. “I want to create our stage together.”

“You’re not worried about our contract?”

Tokiya snorted. “What does a contract have after what we just went through tonight? We’ll figure it out.”

Otoya stepped closer, moving onto his tiptoes to press his lips to Tokiya’s gently once, and then twice. “I want to create a stage together with you too,” he said. “In this world, and in every other world, in every other time we meet each other again. I hope that I’ll always find my way to you.”

Tokiya pressed their foreheads together. “I’ll always find you.”

“It’s a promise,” Otoya said.

Tokiya hoped Randolph knew about this moment right now, that he knew that he and Blood would someday be reunited and have the future they always dreamed about together. He hoped that he knew that future they’d dreamed about was theirs to take and shape as they desired, and their happiness was sure to follow. And even if there were worlds out there that they had failed at, they would always have this one. They, and any other incarnation of them, would always have this moment, this universe, to rest in until they could make a future all their own. 

But for them, their future was something that Tokiya would take great pleasure in creating. “It’s a promise,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per normal, here's my large A/N for the entire thing lol
> 
> I've had this idea for a long time now; I love Lycoris no Mori reincarnation fics, and my love of AUs made me wonder what if all of the SMS dramas were related. I had ideas for some of them when I started writing, and others had to be experimented with before they made sense. This fic was an entire exercise in thinking before I sat down to write, because with the limited time I had, I knew that if I started writing and wasn't happy with something, I wouldn't have a chance to rewrite it. Luckily, I already write most of my stuff in my head before I sit down, so it ended up working out somehow. 
> 
> The difficult part was tying the reincarnation piece into a logical conclusion at the end. Originally, the idea was that all of these would be taking place in the same universe at different points in history. Unfortunately, Joker Trap feels very modern, and I didn't feel comfortable pushing it back to the early 1990s. The Many Worlds Interpretation of quantum physics is one of my favorites (it's the only way I can make time travel work in my head, and yes, I've thought extensively about time travel lol), and I'm very fortunate that it worked out logically in this sense. That being said, I wanted to leave it very ambiguous what was going on. Are Otoya and Tokiya actual reincarnations of Blood and Randolph, cursed by Black Hood to always love each other? I think it's more interesting to let the reader decide. 
> 
> There were small hints throughout this fic of the Lycoris no Mori twist, both obvious and not. I recommend reading it over a second time if you're interested in some of those, because the cryptic hints were some of my favorite parts.
> 
> One of the things I really wanted to emphasize was the difference in how Otoya and Tokiya see each other. In all of Tokiya's AU endings aside from Lycoris, their relationship comes to an end because Otoya is physically no longer there. In Joker Trap, he dies, and in Polaris, he's already died. Being together is a physical impossibility. For Otoya's AU endings, it's more about their social standings and where they are in society as to why they can't be together, which I think is a nice parallel to Blood and Randolph's situation in Lycoris no Mori.
> 
> I could blabber on and on about it, but in the end, I'm mostly happy with how it ended up, and I can't think of a better person to have written it for. Thank you once again for reading, and I hope you enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to end up in the wrong place after the second chapter is posted, but I'll have to deal with it. :c
> 
> I'll give a bit of background around the AU characters, because you'll see a few of them as this fic goes on.
> 
> Otoya's character, Ace, is based off of Zwei from the SL event because I really love the idea of Otoya as a hacker (from your friendly neighborhood ethical hacker lol). He serves as mission support in SAS, and is Tokiya's roommate. I don't have a lot of backstory for him, mostly because I love Joker Trap enough that I can't decide on a canon for it (oh but ask me about Masato, I dare you lol . . . that'll probably be a separate fic of its own someday), but luckily, I didn't need much for this one. Feel free to fill in the blanks as you see fit!
> 
> Also, as a heads up, don't call a hacker a script kiddie unless you want them to show off just how well they can hack, because you will 100% be their next target. Don't say I didn't warn you.


End file.
